


Dancing in the Dark

by WednesdayGilfillian



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 08:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14304309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WednesdayGilfillian/pseuds/WednesdayGilfillian
Summary: Jacques and Olivia pause to make camp on the interminably long drive to VFD.





	Dancing in the Dark

Olivia knew that the journey from the city to VFD was interminably long. The strange thing was that it didn’t _feel_ it. They’d been tailing Olaf’s car for what had to be hours, and yet Olivia could have answered quite honestly that there was no place she’d rather be. In this car, on this road, she had purpose – a purpose even nobler than the fine vocation of librarianship. And she had company. Kind, noble, incidentally-very-attractive company, in the form of Jacques Snicket.

The sky was darkening, however, and Olivia wondered whether they’d make VFD before nightfall. She glanced across at Jacques, whose brow was furrowed in contemplation.

“If we maintain this following distance,” Jacques began, “we may not make VFD before nightfall.”  
Olivia nodded. “Will that be a problem?”  
“Not necessarily. We know where Olaf’s headed, so can get away with keeping an inconspicuous distance. However, it may not be advisable to enter the village under the cover of darkness.”  
“In case of ambush?”  
“Exactly.” Jacques gave her a quick little smile, and Olivia felt something in her chest leap.  
“It might be safer for us to wait till morning, and go in refreshed and fully alert. This isn’t something we can afford to bungle.”  
“No…” The librarian bit her lip. “I just hope the Quagmires know we’re coming. They must be so frightened.”  
Jacques had no answer to that, apparently – he only nodded gravely again.

“Well, if we’re decided, all that remains is to make camp. I’m afraid it won’t be luxurious, but you will find this taxi well-equipped.”  
“I don’t need luxury,” Olivia assured him. “I’m a volunteer.”

Half an hour later, they had parked a little way off the road. Jacques built a small campfire just as the first stars appeared above, and Olivia found that he had been true to his word. The taxi was _remarkably_ well-equipped. She should have been most interested in the range of gourmet freeze-dried food, or the thick sleeping bags stowed for such occasions – but what _really_ caught her interest when Jacques popped the trunk was the books.

“This is…an impressive collection,” she breathed, eyes raking over book spines and titles. “And an efficient utilization of space.”  
Jacques gave a modest little shrug. “I try to rotate the selection every so often, but there are some that’ve been there for years now – certain books I wouldn’t be without.”  
Olivia nodded warmly. “I know just what you mean.”  
“Feel free to borrow any title you wish. I know they’ll be in good hands.”  
Jacques didn’t meet her eyes as he said this, but busied himself stoking the fire.

They cooked freeze-dried beef bourguignon over the campfire, and ate it from perfectly serviceable tin plates. Jacques even found a dusty bottle of wine somewhere, and poured them each a sensibly-small glass. Watching him in the glow of the fire, Olivia tried to keep their mission in mind…but it was somehow difficult to believe that darkness and villainy abounded when there was so much evidence of warmth and goodness all around her. The crackle of the fire, the way their glasses of merlot glowed in the light…the openness and sincerity on Jacques’ face. He was recounting the things he’d learned on his first ever camping trip, with his sister Kit and brother Lemony. The stories were by turns thrilling and absurdly hilarious.

“But anyway, this isn’t the landscape for snow gnats, so we won’t have any similar problems tonight.”  
Olivia chuckled. “Thank goodness! I have read several books on entomology, however…so in the event of an encounter I would know my enemy, at least.”  
“Always wise.” Jacques eyes twinkled. He drained his glass.

He looked thoughtfully over at his taxi, its doors left open to the night.  
“We should bunk down soon…but if you don’t mind, I’ll just see if I can pick up a radio station. It’s best to stay in contact with the world.”  
“Of course.”

Olivia watched as he fiddled with the dials on the dashboard, searching through the static for a signal. She reached up and began to unfasten her hair; it had been a long day. She was finger-combing her long red tresses when suddenly the radio picked something up. She and Jacques both sat up straighter, but within seconds they realized it was only some late-night song selection. Jacques turned to comment, then stalled, blinking at the sight of her.

“Uhh…”  
He looked back at the radio.  
“Ah, this one’s a foxtrot… The VFD taught us to recognise most musical styles, and dances,” he explained, a little too quickly.  
“You’re lucky,” Olivia replied, as evenly as she could manage. “My musical education was very patchy. And as for dance…”  
Jacques looked down at his feet, and then up again.  
“Did anyone ever teach you the foxtrot?”  
Olivia smiled ruefully. “They _tried_.”  
He laughed, and she felt her chest constrict. This was getting out of hand.

“Still, perhaps you might have more luck,” she continued, before she could stop herself. “I’m sure _you_ don’t stand on people’s toes the way Tommy Sellers used to.”

Jacques’ mouth quirked in a smile as he made his way towards her.  
“I think I can manage to avoid that…if you’re willing to take the risk?”  
He held out a hand to help her up, and after a second she took it. He didn’t let go.

He pulled her another few steps away from the fire, and they took up the classic position; her hand on his shoulder, his hand at her waist. His thumb brushed against hers quite unnecessarily, and Olivia’s breath caught in her throat.

“I should warn you, I may be a little rusty…” Jacques’ voice was low.  
“Oh, I’d say I’m in good hands.”

In the middle of the Hinterlands, to the tinny tune of a car radio, they danced in slow circles. The music seemed to be coming from very far away…which of course it was, broadcast from some station in the city. But the signal was strong enough that, when a singer began, they could easily make out the lyrics – which were sweetly fatalistic, as the best lyrics so often are.

As they swayed in the firelight, Olivia couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. This was the most painfully romantic moment of her life…and her whole body was begging her to do something about it.

Jacques dipped her ever so slightly as the song came to a close, just enough that she clung to his shoulders. He was staring…at her eyes, and then her lips…and suddenly she couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment he tilted her upright again, she pressed her mouth boldly against his. Olivia felt her head spin, as though she’d had much more wine. And then, all at once, he was kissing her back.

His hands were at her waist, in her hair, pulling her closer against him. Olivia felt herself responding, heat rising in her cheeks, and let her own hands clutch at his strong arms, his shoulders. She couldn’t imagine stopping…but eventually Jacques pulled back. His eyes were dark, and his breathing ragged.

“You are…remarkable, Olivia Caliban.”  
“I could say the same of you, Jacques Snicket.”  
He smiled, and her heart skipped a beat.

Jacques glanced towards his taxi.  
“It _is_ late. I suppose we should bunk down for the evening. Separately, I mean,” he added, quickly. “Or together,” he backtracked, seeing her face. “I…I don’t have any expectations, is what I mean…I…”  
He buried his face in his hands, and Olivia laughed in empathy.  
“You’re a gentleman,” she supplied. It seemed a fair assessment.

“Well, a gentleman would give you the warmest sleeping bag, and the best reclining seat in the vehicle.”  
“Might a gentleman also stay within arm’s reach, if a lady requested it?”  
Her coyness worked; Jacques’ eyes glittered.  
“Yes, that could probably be arranged.”

None of us ever know how many nights we have remaining...but for one night in the Hinterlands, two volunteers slept warmly, safe and well. That is something, if not enough; it is one thing that happened as it should. As it was always going to.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you think...?
> 
> Also, find me on tumblr: @wednesdaygilfillian


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